


you exist in my heart, i'll be your home

by hyun_e



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Family, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, aka bad neighborhood edginess, also some gang activity but not the dreamies, edgy teens being edgy, found family yay, how dear dream makes me feel, maybe some drug use idk yet, my goal here is to make myself cry with this story so, my southside au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2020-12-14 06:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21011438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyun_e/pseuds/hyun_e
Summary: in which the dreamies all have shitty home lives but they find a new family in each otherorthe southside au no one asked for but i've been sitting on since i first heard dear dream





	1. i've awoken my vulnerable heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I…” Jisung began. “I punched a kid in the face and broke his nose.” 
> 
> There was a beat of silence, and then the three students were laughing and cheering.
> 
> “Hey, new kid that’s pretty awesome,” Donghyuck said, a smile finally breaching his expression. “So it’s your first day at school and you’ve already smashed a kid’s nose.” 
> 
> “That’ll get you some vicious street cred,” Renjun agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically this is a southside au that i thought of like basically the first time i heard dear dream and now im finally writing it

For Jisung, all he’d needed was dance. when his sister left, dance was still there. when his mother overdosed, dance was still there. When his dad wasn’t there, dance was.

And then came the dreamers.

Their self-appointed title may seem overdramatic and slightly childish, but it honestly created itself, and no one bothered to object. Jisung thinks that everyone secretly liked it. When they were together, they could forget about their shitty home lives, their shitty parents, and their shitty school. They could dream of greater things; greater futures that they would most likely never attain. But it was nice to pretend, sometimes.

***

The first day of high school, as usual, did not go as planned. Before he had even left the apartment that morning, his father’s stern voice had followed him through the kitchen and to the door and Jisung groggily stuffed his feet into his sneakers.

“Let’s really try this year, huh?” his father had sighed out, falsely hopeful and painfully exasperated. “At least--” Jisung spared a glance over his shoulder at his father in his work clothes, newspaper messily sprawled across the tiny kitchen table, with his glasses sitting on the top of his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least try _not_ knocking a kid unconscious on your first day?”

“I’ll try,”Jisung muttered with as much conviction as he could (aka the bare minimum).

Jisung began to pull down on the door knob and, hearing his father let out another tired sigh, he rolled his eyes and bolted outside and down the steps.

Leaving home to go to school was going from one hell to another. To Jisung, school was an absolute shitshow, with teachers who didn’t care, and students who cared even less. After a few choice events his freshman year, it was “heavily suggested” that Jisung transfer to a different academy (he got kicked out). So here he was, at the most public of public schools sophomore year, and he was fully prepared to just survive this time. Don’t draw attention, don’t get labelled, and he wouldn’t have any trouble.

Life seemed to have other plans for him, however, as only just during transition from second to third period, some kid from his middle school whispered (intentionally) loudly that Jisung was “_the kid with the deadbeat drug-addicted mother who was now just dead, period._”

There was a blur of red, a resounding crack, and then a numb pulsing in his right hand. once his senses reorganized themselves, he finally registered the kid holding his nose, skin already starting to bruise, as blood poured from the cracks of his clenched fingers.

The kids in the hallway were cheering and letting out “ooh”s and pained hisses as the aggressive click-clack of heels on the linoleum floor approached the scene. A female teacher with blonde hair pulled into a bun so tight--Jisung wondered if her receding hairline was a result of it--red cat-eye glasses, an ugly paisley top matched with a terribly outdated pencil skirt walked straight up to Jisung, and grabbed his already loose tie. “You’re coming with me, young man,” she hissed before she began to drag him away. The kids continued to cheer and laugh as they retreated to the principal’s office.

The teacher_ firmly guided_ (basically pushed him) into the principal’s waiting room before turning on her heels and flitting away without another word. Jisung reluctantly took a seat, giving the secretary who was giving him a judgmental stare a wink and a grin. She rolled her eyes beneath her bifocals, and the continued to clack away at her computer keys, acrylics making the noise even more obnoxious than usual.

After about five minutes of wandering eyes and twiddling thumbs, the principal peeks his head out of his office. “Park Jisung,” he summons. Jisung rises to his feet with a disgruntled huff and heads into the office.

“Please, sit down,” the principal says as he gestures at a chair in front of his desk. The desk in mention is so terrible cliche in its decoration; a rectangular plaque with “Principal Jung” engraved on it, a paperweight that looked like an apple, papers neatly stacked and pens in straight lines, etc.

Jisung did as he was told, immediately sagging into the chair, slouching and sighing loudly.

“Well, why don’t we get straight to the point, Mr. Park,” the principal suggests.

Jisung shrugs. “Whatever.”

“It’s your first day, and you’ve already broken a kid’s nose.”

“I broke his _nose_? N_ice_!” Jisung says, chuckling.

“No, _not nice_,” principal jung sighs tiredly. “Listen, we both know why you transferred to SM High from your old school.” Jisung raised an eyebrow.

The two had a brief moment of silence, as they stared into each other’s eyes, unblinking, like a struggle for dominance. Principal Jung looks down first, and Jisung internally jeers. “Mr. park, J_isung_, I’m friends with your father and he begged me for a favor: to let you enroll here. I had to do so much convincing to the school board, and it would devastate me for you to throw away everyone’s efforts on your first day.”

“I never asked for that.”

“I know you’re probably struggling, but can’t you just try? I’m willing to let it slide this time, and let you off easy, but you have to promise that you’ll try to stay on the low and stop breaking kids’ noses. It’s a two way street.”

“Fine,” jisung relents, rolling his eyes and pushing his chair back as he stood up abruptly. “We done here, then?”

Principal Jung sighs again. “Yes, I suppose so.” Jisung turns to leave. “But!” the older man calls out, and Jisung stops, turning back. “You still have after school detention.”

“what?” jisung protests. “you said you’d let me off easy!”

“You still broke a student’s nose, and I still have a responsibility to the school. I can’t let you off the hook completely, because it’s necessary to deter further outbreaks like this from you--” Jisung huffs in frustration. “--_and_ from other students.”

“Whatever,” Jisung snorts, turning on his heel and fleeing the office.

“Detention is in the library!” Principal Jung calls after him.

The rest of the day goes by generally easily, with jisung taking naps here and there in his classes. After the final bell rang, arousing Jisung from his light slumber, he jolted up and glanced at the clock. Releasing an annoyed sigh, and picked his backpack up off the ground and threw it over his shoulder, as he pulled his tie from his neck, relishing in the feeling of freedom.

After trudging slowly to the library, he peered in the window to see a teacher in a navy cardigan leaning against a table and looking through papers he held in his hand. Jisung stuffed the tie which he’d been fiddling with on the walk there into his pocket, and pushed his way into the room.

The teacher looked up slowly, undeterred by jisung’s tardiness and gave him a smile which looked strangely genuine. “Take a seat, Mr. Park,” he instructed, waving to the rows of empty library desks in front of him.

Jisung slid into the last seat at the last table, tossing his backpack on the floor carelessly. “Don’t tell me i’m stuck here alone,” Jisung muttered.

“No, there should be three regulars showing up right about…” the teacher began, staring down at his wristwatch. “...now,” he finished just as the doors to the library burst open. Jisung turned to look at the newcomers, one of which had another in a headlock as the two blindly stumbled forward. a third followed close behind, a fond smile on his face.

The three had various hair colors, catching Jisung by surprise. The one who had his friend in a headlock had a light chestnut hair color, the recipient of the headlock had hay blonde hair, and the final had a bubblegum pink. Jisung didn’t even know dyed hair was allowed in the school.

The one boy released the other as they reached the rows of tables, and flashed the teacher a smile. “Hey, teach!” he said, cheerily.

“I don’t know why you sound so excited when you’re back in detention, Donghyuck, but hello to you, too.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Mr. Kim,” the student, Donghyuck, said, as the three took their seats a table in front of Jisung. “We make detention fun for you!”

“Well, i wouldn’t have to be monitoring detention if you didn’t get it every other day,” Mr. Kim retorted.

“Touche.”

“Aren’t you gonna ask why we got detention today?” another asked.

“Well you see, Jaemin, I just don’t _care_.”

The three cackled at Mr. Kim’s response, who winked at them and looked back down at his papers. “Well, you three obviously know the drill, but since we have a new student to your breakfast club, I’ll be doing the spiel again.”

At the mention of Jisung, the three turned around, and finally seemed to register his presence. Donghyuck and another smaller boy spared him nothing but a glance, but the last one, Jaemin, gave him a warm smile.

“Detention is for two hours, and students should be prohibited from doing homework, using technology for any purposes, and shall refrain from talking. this should be viewed as a reflective period for the students present,” Mr. Kim read off the paper.

“You got that, new kid?” Donghyuck asked without even turning to look at him. when Jisung didn’t respond, only then did he turn around. “I said you got that?” Jisung nodded. “Cool, then. Mr. Kim, your work is done here.

The latter rolled his eyes fondly, and set the papers on the desk behind him. “I’m going to the lounge for a cup of coffee, just don’t--” he pursed his lips. “--don’t attract any attention.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Donghyuck chuckled.

After Mr. Kim left, the three turned to face Jisung, who side-eyed them suspiciously.

“And what are you doing here?” Donghyuck pressed.

“Shut up, Hyuck,” the smaller boy said, rolling his eyes at the former. He gave Jisung a smile. “Hi, I’m renjun. That’s Hyuck, and this is Jaemin. Hyuck’s just curious, but he doesn’t really know much about subtlety.”

Jisung remained silent. Renjun chuckled. “Not that you asked, but Hyuck got caught smoking in the bathroom, I cursed out a teacher, and Jaemin…” he trailed off. “Wait, what the hell did you do anyway?” Renjun asked, redirecting his attention to Jaemin.

jaemin shrugged. “Jeno’s busy today.”

Renjun rolled his eyes and gave Jaemin a hard push, almost causing him to fall, but he regained his balance at the last second. As aggressive as the shove looked, Jaemin was smiling stupidly, for reasons Jisung couldn’t understand.

The three turned to look at Jisung expectantly.

“I…” Jisung began. “I punched a kid in the face and broke his nose.”

There was a beat of silence, and then the three students were laughing and cheering.

“Hey, new kid that’s pretty awesome,” Donghyuck said, a smile finally breaching his expression. “So it’s your first day at school and you’ve already smashed a kid’s nose.”

“That’ll get you some vicious street cred,” Renjun agreed.

“Hey, what do you say you come chill with us after detention?” Jaemin asked with bright eyes.

Jisung pursed his lips. no doubt the school principal called his dad and told him what he had done, and Jisung wasn’t particularly excited to see how his father had taken it. And since he’s in no rush to get home, what was the harm in hanging out for a few hours?

“Sure,” he answered.

“Nice!” Jaemin said, holding out his hand for a high five, which Jisung hesitantly returned.

“So, you cursed out a teacher?” Jaemin asked, turning his head to look at Renjun, who gave a tired nod. “What’d you say to him?”

“He was picking on Chenle for not understanding the instructions, so i called him a disease-ridden fuckface of an incel,” Renjun huffed.

Jaemin remained silent for half a second, sparing a glance at Donghyuck who shrugged, a sloppy grin molding his features. Then Jaemin broke out into laughter. His laugh was borderline a cackle, which got a rise out of Renjun who slowly allowed himself to smile.

“He was a good for nothing piece of shit,” Renjun said.

“I believe you, babe,” Jaemin replied, slinging an arm across his shoulder. They stayed like that for the majority of the rest of their time in detention, and even after Mr. Kim returned, the three talked casually amongst themselves, never turning away from jJisung once. Even though Jisung rarely offered any input on anything, it still felt like he was being included.

The minute the bell rang, the three boys were immediately picking their backpacks off the floor and slinging them across their backs. Jisung was sluggish to follow, but once he had, Jaemin grabbed him by the hand and they booked it out of the library, the three calling out a hurried goodbye to Mr. Kim.

As the four eagerly tumbled out of the building, Jisung finally gathered the courage to interrupt with a “where the hell are we going?”

Renjun just smiled at him, but there was something ingenuine about it, unlike with how Jaemin looked at him, and gave him a snippy “you’ll see,” before punching Donghyuck in the arm lightly as the two snickered and for some reason, it felt like it was directed at him.

As if he could read his mind, Jaemin let the other two boys prance ahead of them as he leaned in to whisper in Jisung’s ear. “They’re not laughing at you, Jisung,” he said. “I think they’re just over-excited to corrupt the new kid.”

Jisung felt quite unassured, but nodded anyway, because Jaemin was nice and Jaemin was trying and that’s more than anyone’s ever done for Jisung.

After another few blocks of Donghyuck and Renjun making jabs at passerbys and Jaemin pinching Jisung’s cheeks, they stopped in front of a slightly run down dance studio. A place called 'Dream Dance Studios' in faded lettering piqued Jisung’s interest. He didn’t pass these kids off as dancers.

Without many other words exchanged, the four forged in, by passing the empty reception desk and heading straight down the stairs. As they approach the last room, the sound of music slowly crescendos, and they walk in on a boy with soft brown hair, much like Donghyuck’s, practicing a hip-hop routine, with sweat bleeding through his t-shirt.

Once they walk in, Jaemin releases Jaemin in exchange for running up to the boy and pushing him on the back lightly. The boy turns around to give Jaemin the finger, but smiles the whole time. The music turns off abruptly and Jisung turns to see Renjun by the boombox.

“Jeno!’ jaemin wines, giving the brunette a hug despite his sweaty appearance. Jisung stands at the door awkwardly, as Donghyuck rushes to meet another boy Jisung hadn’t noticed sitting in the corner of the room, who looks like he’d nodded off with his nose buried in a textbook.

A few long seconds go on before Jaemin seems to remember that he had brought Jisung along with him. “Ah, Jeno!” he says, hitting the other’s shoulder again (“why the hell do you keep hitting me?” the boy grumbles, though Jaemin ignores him completely). “This,” he skips over to the door, grabbing Jisung’s wrist and pulling him towards this Jeno guy. “is Jisung. We met in detention.”

“Kim’s right, we are like the goddamn breakfast club,” Jeno rolls his eyes. But once he turns to reach his arm out to shake Jisung’s hand, he smiles and his eyes curl into attractive half crescents. Offhandedly, Jisung notes that this Jeno dude reminds him of some type of dog. “Nice to meet you,” he chuckles.

Jisung shakes his hand hesitantly. As they pull away, he fears any pressing questions that come next, like why he’s here, why the others decided to bring an outsider in, doesn’t he need to be home when it’s getting late, but to Jisung’s pleasant surprise, Jeno simply offers him another smile and then heads to the side of the room to grab his water bottle and sling a towel over his neck.

Jisung lets his eyes scan the room again, and they land on Donghyuck who’s now sitting on the floor next to the other boy, who has black hair, Jisung finally catalogues. Donghyuck is resting his head on the other boy’s shoulder, as he aimlessly scrolls on his phone.

In the silence, the others turn to look as well, and Jisung can hear Renjun scoff, but when he turns to look at him, he simply looking on with an amused smile. he catches Jisung’s gaze slightly after, and offers him a half-hearted grin. “That’s mark,” he says. “He’s a senior and he’s been working really hard to get into college,” Renjun explains. “Since he doesn’t go home until late he’ll chill here while Jeno practices so he can study more.”

Donghyuck doesn’t stir as Renjun speaks, Jisung notes.

After renjun finishes, he walks over towards donghyuck and whispers something in his ear. The next moment, Donghyuck is reaching into his pocket and pulling out a rolled blunt. Renjun takes a lighter out of his own pocket and lights it up.

“You smoke?” a voice asks from behind Jisung. He startles slightly, and turns to see Jaemin looking at him expectantly.

“No?” Jisung responds.

“Have you ever?"

Jisung shakes his head.

“So you wanna?”

A second. A nod.

“Hey, Junnie, over here!” Renjun comes as summoned and hands the blunt off to Jaemin, who takes a drag before handing it to Jisung. “He’s never smoked before,” Jaemin comments.

Jisung looks at the blunt in between his fingers, the body of it warm and starting to smush into the shape of his thumb and pointer finger pad indents. He looks at Jaemin quizzically.

“Just put it to your lips, inhale, hold it in for a little, and then breathe out. But don’t take a long drag since it’s your first time.”

Jisung nods, and does as he’s told. He feels the smoke fill his lungs and as he pulls away he begins to cough, a foul and unfamiliar taste in his mouth. He continues to cough as he holds the blunt out for someone to take (which someone does, but he doesn’t know that it was Jeno until after he had finished nearly dying).

He hears everyone in the room laughing and chuckling at his first time smoking, but doesn’t feel anything malicious, and he smiles as he hacks.

As it finally dissipates, he swallows thickly and blinks rapidly. “Wow,” he says,

“Wow is right,” Jaemin echoed. For a few more minutes, they pass the blunt around until it’s nothing but a nub, and Jaemin stomps it under his foot.

“Not on my floor!” jeno wails. He gives Jaemin a glare, to which he flashes a guilty smile.

“It’s either a simple mop job or this whole place might burn down,” Jaemin responds. Renjun slaps a hand on Jeno’s shoulder, cupping it comfortingly as they both shake their head fondly at Jaemin.

“You feeling the buzz yet, Jisung?” Renjun asks.

“I-I have no idea. what’s that feel like?” Jisung responds.

“You’ll know when it happens.”

It’s been a good twenty minutes since they’ve arrived, and Jisung sees Jeno take off the towel he’d donned earlier to catch his sweat, and walks to the stereo again, flicking it on, and reclaiming his place in front of the mirror.

Jisung makes his way to a wall so that he can watch, sliding down on his back to sit down. Jeno is a clean dancer, quite powerful, and Jisung wonders what it’d be like to dance with him. As time goes on, time starts to warp a bit strangely. Not incredibly noticeably, but just slightly, and he feels a floating feeling in his head.

He starts looking around randomly, before he turns and sees a pencil scribble on the wall. It’s nothing but some dumb character with buck teeth and a long nose, but it makes Jisung giggle. The next thing he knew, Jaemin is sliding down next to Jisung and flashing him a smile.

“You feeling it now?” he asks. Jisung just giggled. “Yeah, you’re feeling it,” he confirms.

Jisung flaps his hands as he starts to laugh harder, and Jaemin chuckles back. “It’s gonna hit you a little hard since it’s your first time, but wait until you try a bong, Jisungie.”

Jisung takes a second to process the nickname, but then breaks into a happy smile. No one’s ever called him by a nickname (not a fond one, at least; his mom sometimes called him a monster when she was high on coke, and his father sometimes called him a disappointment during his drunken stupors, but Jisung didn’t wanna count those because they were mean).

There’s a silence that overtakes the room, and Jisung looks up to see even Jeno has stopped dancing. As his eyes look around the room, he sees that everyone was peering at him, and his brows furrow.

“You’re right, Sungie, they don’t count, because you’re neither of them,” Jaemin finally says. “So that means that they can’t be a nickname if you’re not actually a monster or a disappointment. you get it?”

Jisung nods first but blinks and then_ oh shit, did he say all that out loud_?

Jisung is too buzzed to be upset over what he just did, and everyone moves on so quickly it almost feels like it was a figment of Jisung’s imagination. The only thing that Jisung can remember let him know it wasn’t, was Jaemin’s pinky finger intertwining with Jisung’s own.

  
Jisung’s head starts to clear some hour and a half later and in his clarity he’s finally able to check the time on his phone.

8:49.

Fuck.

Jisung stands abruptly, running over to the corner to grab his backpack which he’d thrown there hours ago.

Jeno, Renjun, Jaemin, and Donghyuck give him differing questioning looks. “Thanks so much for inviting me, but I didn’t know it was getting so late, and my father is probably waiting for me,” Jisung explains hurriedly.

Donghyuck and Renjun exchange looks in Jisung’s periphery, before Renjun speaks up. “Yeah, go ahead, Jisung,” he says, pushing himself to his feet from where he had been sitting criss-cross applesauce doing some homework distractedly. “But first,” he continues. He digs into his front pocket and pulls out his phone, handing it over to Jisung. Now it’s Jisung’s turn to look at him, confused, and Renjun nods down at it. “Enter your phone number, duh. So we can text you and shit?”

Jisung gives an awkward huff of a laugh, before doing as he’s told. Once he’s finished, he hands the phone back, and makes his way towards the door.

“Bye, Jisungie!” Jaemin calls out. Jisung looks at him, and he waves frantically at him. Jisung waves back, and then waves to each of the other guys in turn before finally leaving the room and letting the door shut behind him.

He scales the steps two at a time, finally bursting into the night air and starting in the direction of his apartment complex.

Principal Jung had said he’s tell his dad, didn’t he? Maybe he’ll be asleep and he can lecture him tomorrow Jisung thinks hopefully. But in fifteen minutes, he’s walking in the door, the electronic lock making an annoyingly loud beep as Jisung comes in and slips off his sneakers.

He can already see the faint kitchen light on. _Fuck_.

He takes a deep breath and reluctantly walks into the kitchen.

His dad looks up from over his computer screen, and once he sees Jisung, he stands to his full height and Jisung internally rolls his eyes and curses.

“And where have you been, young man?” Jisung’s father’s booming voice calls out.

“I was with some friends,” Jisung mumbles back.

“_F__riends_?” he echoes spitefully, like he doesn’t believe Jisung, or finds the notion of Jisung having friends distasteful. Jisung tries not to feel hurt. “No matter that, Principal Jung told me what happened. Why the fuck would you punch a kid in the nose? Are you stupid?” he demands, his eyebrows firm and hateful behind his bifocals.

“The kid deserved it--” Jisung began to argue.

“_D__o not_ talk back to me, boy,” his father barks out, his eyes hardening as his voice begins to take on that tone. It’s then that Jisung looks on the kitchen counter to see the bottle of whiskey out. _D__ouble fuck._

“_I'__m sorry_,” Jisung grits out through his teeth.

“Get the _fuck_ to your room. I don’t want to see your fucking face the rest of the night.”

Jisung says nothing else and just rushes past his father (staying as close to the wall as possible) and run to his room, locking his door behind him.

As he chucks his backpack at his wall, he throws himself onto his bed. Not even a minute later that Jisung is laying there, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulls it out with a groan to look at it. His irritation immediately melts away when he says that Renjun has added him to a groupchat of who he can only assume to be Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark. j=Jisung even lets himself smile when he gets a text from an unknown number in the chat that reads ‘hi jisungie’ with a barrage of stupid emoticons following it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter honestly ended up a little longer than i thought but this is just to set shit up but i have some good shit planned for next chapter so review and subscribe or whateva
> 
> and yes the detention proctor is doyoung LMAO could u tell


	2. it won't become blurry, i'll paint it boldly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn’t over!” he swears. “Fuck, i’ll get you back for this, Huang! Mark my words!” 
> 
> “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Renjun mocks, before flipping him off. Kyung reaches over to the closest table, taking a random student’s tray and throwing it to the ground in outrage. The three stalk away as Mark finally coaxes Renjun back into his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok hey so this chapter actually ended up shorter than i originally intended but i switched up the outline a little and i really wanted to post this so whatever

The next day, Jisung goes to school and passes by without a hitch. He gets a text after last period to meet at the entrance to the school.

When he arrives, Donghyuck, Mark, Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun are already there joking around as Renjun drags Donghyuck into a chokehold. As Jisung approaches Jaemin finds his eyes, and he breaks into a smile. “Jisungie!” he chirps out, rushing to him so that he can ruffle his hair. “Wanna head to the studio again today?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Sorry, but that’s basically the only place we hang out,” Jeno admits.

Jisung shrugs again. “It’s fine, I dance so I’m not a stranger to studios.”

At jisung’s confession of being a dancer (which is something he never really shared about himself, so after the fact he found himself quite confused by the fact that he admitted it so easily) everyone’s demeanor changed.

“Really?” mark says, and it’s the first time jisung’s heard his voice. It’s smooth and his voice breaks at end, earning a cackle from Donghyuck as he makes fun of him. Mark just waves him off with an embarrassed smile. “You _have_ to show us your moves once we’re there,” he says and Jisung finds himself nodding right away with a smile.

“Okay!” Renjun declares. “To the studio so we can see Jisungie dance!” he points towards the sky with enthusiasm, and Jaemin ruffles his hair, much like he had just done to Jisung upon his arrival. Renjun’s grin turns to a glare as he snatches Jaemin’s wrist and wrenches it behind his back. Jaemin grunts in discomfort and Jisung can hear him murmur something along the lines of “I’m sorry, Junnie, okay you win, just _release_ me,” (Renjun does) as Jeno watches on and laughs.

On the walk there, the group makes meaningful small talk, from which Jisung discovers that they all dance to an extent. Jeno is majorly hip-hop and Renjun practices ballet and modern dance (he used to study it as a kid until his parents pulled him out of the class for reasons undisclosed).

Once they’re back in the studio, Jisung hears a shrill _ding!_ sound off, and Renjun digs around in his pocket to check his phone. As he unlocks it and scans the screen, his eyes light up and his face breaks into a smile. “Chenle just got off work and he’s on his way over!” he tells everyone.

They all exchange smiles as Jisung looks on.

“Chenle is our other friend,” Mark explains from across the room. “I think he’s actually in your grade. You might know him once you see him.”

Jisung raises a silent eyebrow. How the hell would he recognize some random kid his second day at school?

“Well, now that we’re here,” Jeno begins, giving a resounding clap. “Why don’t you show us what you’re made of, Park Jisung?”

Jisung gives an awkward chuckle, his hands shyly folding together. “I dont know…” he mumbles.

“I mean, it’s okay if you’re _scared_,” Donghyuck teases. Immediately, Jisung’s posture straightens, and he raises his head high and stares deeply into Donghyuck’s eyes. The latter laughs at the change in demeanor and gives a gentle curse. “Well, shit! Now _I__’m_ kinda scared!”

“Come on, Jisung. You can pick any song you’d like,” Jeno continues.

Jisung shifts his attention over to Jeno who’s standing near a crappy stereo in the corner of the room, where the mirror stops and wall begins. “Play whatever. I can dance to anything,” Jisung replies cooly. The room breaks out in yells and shouts and he allows himself a cheeky smile.

Jeno smirks and runs a hand through his hair. “If you say so,” he chuckles.

Jisung rolls his shoulders to displace his uniform jacket, stretching his arms behind his back to allow it to slide off, and in the next breath has his hand at his throat to loosen his tie as he strides forward into the middle of the room. In his peripheral vision he can see everyone (save for Jeno who’s still at the stereo) sitting in various positions along the wall, looking at him expectantly, and he feels a rush of adrenaline flow through him.

Jeno takes his position as an okay to start the music, and soon a thumping beat is filling the room. Jisung allows himself to breathe in the beat, and feel the tempo thrum under his skin as he wobbles on the balls of his feet. As the sultry voice begins, he lets his body move on its own, the moves coming as naturally as air to him.

And it’s always been that way; with no other way to get out his feelings, dance became his outlet. He practiced day after day, year after year, never stopping and never getting bored because it was the one thing that brought some excitement to his shitty life and allowed him to escape his father’s judgmental glare that followed him wherever he went.

Jisung, for the first time since his school change, felt legitimate happiness flood his mind, as he let himself go, and dance out his stress.

Jisung was throwing in whatever he could think of: popping, leg swipes, turns and jumps, and he would hear the others consistently hyping him up and cheering, and he allowed himself to relish in the sound and feeling of what he would call now, looking back on it, genuine friendship.

Jisung kept dancing until the end of the song, and only realized once the track cut out and after he exchanged a comfortable handshake with Jeno (who was giving him praise after praise) that another kid had entered the building, and was standing in the doorway, staring open-mouthed at Jisung.

He was short (but still probably taller than Renjun) and had bright, lime-like green hair. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and was wearing a vest over his uniform, the ones that convenience store employees wear.

As Jisung caught his breath, he looked from the kid to the others at the wall, who were talking amongst themselves. Finally Renjun looked up, and he noticed the kid standing at the door. He hopped to his feet and rushed over to sling an arm over his shoulder and press a noogie into his hair. he laughed loudly as he dragged the boy over to the others and they began to chat amongst themselves. Jisung found himself looking at Jeno for clarification.

“That’s Chenle,” Jeno explains. “I think he had a shift today. He works a lot, so he’s not always able to come to the studio.”

Jisung nods slowly with understanding, and then turns to look for the kid, but startles when he sees that he’s standing directly in front of him. Jisung is very tall for his age, and the boy has to look up slightly to make direct eye contact and Jisung can’t explain the flutter he feels in his chest as he takes note of it.

“I’m Chenle!” the boy chirps out, and Jisung gives a shy smile.

“Uh, Jisung,” he replies.

“You’re like, really cool!” Chenle says, his eyes sparkling.

Jisung cocks his head in confusion as he begins to mumble out a garbled “what?”

“Like, you’re a good dancer, and you’re handsome, and you’re_ really_ freaking tall,” Chenle cuts him off excitedly. and now Jisung’s heart rate is going up and his cheeks are flushing red (which he hopes is hidden by the fact that he just finished a routine) and honestly_ what_ the fuck he just met this kid?

Jisung hopes he’s not coming off as rude with his lack of words, but his tongue feels heavy for some reason and he’s not quite sure what to say.  
“I wish i could be as cool as you,” Chenle hums, shoulders sinking slightly. “I don’t really have much i’m good at and people kinda find me annoying and a lot to handle and--”

“I think you’re cool!” jisung stammers out. Chenle stops talking and looks on with wide, innocent eyes as he registers Jisung’s words. Jisung feels his ears become hot as he stumbles over his words. “I mean--like, you’ve got really bright hair that shouldn’t look good but it does. You’re--it’s cool.”

Jisung finally remembers that they are _not the only two people in the fucking room_ as he realizes that everyone else is looking at them with some kind of knowing smile and they’re chuckling to each other and Jisung feels his throat clench with embarrassment, but then Chenle is laughing (and it sounds like a dolphin which should be annoying but it’s so far from it) and Jisung thinks a little embarrassment is worth it.

There’s a beat of silence where Chenle and Jisung are just staring at each other, smiling dumbly, before Donghyuck’s voice rings out.

“R_enjun_,” he complains. “They’re_ flirting_. Right in front of us!”

Jisung looks down in what could be shame or embarrassment or both because was that what was really going on? It couldn’t be, because Chenle probably wasn’t like that and that’s _okay_, but if that’s_ okay_ then why was it making Jisung so _upset_ and--

“Hey!” Chenle protests, turning to pout at Donghyuck. “So what if we are! You’re one to talk! You and Mark are _always_ flirting and we never say anything!”

Jisung looks up at Chenle’s words and he puffs his cheeks out, and lets his lips pucker and unpucker as he shifts his weight between his feet and wait, did he just say they were flirting?

Now donghyuck was laughing and Mark was blushing as the others let out teasing “oohs” and “oh shits” and “way to go, Chenle!”

Chenle turned back to Jisung, looking very pleased with himself, before latching onto his wrist gently and pulling him towards the wall. “Pay Hyuck no attention, he’s just like that.”

Jisung nods silently and he lets himself be led to sit down with their backs against the wall.

“Well,” Jaemin interrupts, pushing himself to his feet. “Jisungie surely is quite a talented little dancer!” the others cheer. “Okay, Renjunnie’s turn now!”

Renjun spluttered, shooting Jaemin a disgusted look.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Renjun!” jaemin cackled back. “It’s only fair that you show Jisung your dancing, too!”

The others hum in agreement, even as Renjun shakes his head, “I haven’t practiced in months, Jaemin,” he complains.

Jeno comes up behind Jaemin, putting a hand on his shoulder as he begins to chant in a low, goading tone. “_Ren-jun, Ren-jun, Ren-jun_.”

Jaemin smirks and joins in. The rest follow, and as Jisung watches Chenle letting out warm laughs and yells and chirps, he finds himself chanting as well with a smile on his face.

“Let’s go, Renjun!” jisung yells out, and then he makes a surprised expression at the fact that he just did that. Chenle catches it and laughs, giving Jisung a playful shove.

“Fine, fine,” Renjun relents. “But if I break a bone doing this I’ll sue you_ all_.”

They all start to clap as Renjun makes his way to the middle of the room, even as he glares daggers in their direction. Jeno jogs lightly back to the stereo and fiddles with the buttons for a few seconds, before a melancholy piano tune starts to play. Renjun’s expression changes then, his features soften and he lets his eyes close to feel the music and even Jisung can’t deny that in that moment he looks quite breathtaking.

As the music proceeds, he begins to move, movements graceful and practiced, but never forced. He spins on one leg, bringing his arms up to form a circle before him, the tips of his fingers brushing against each other as he sweeps across the floor with soft steps, that make next to no noise at all.

As Jisung lets his eyes wander, he’s almost caught off guard by how starstruck Jeno and Jaemin look, their shoulders relaxed and smiles genuine. Jaemin cocks his head slightly as his charcoal eyes follow each and every one of Renjun’s movements, never once straying away from the boy, and rarely even resting to blink. Jeno looks on, an expression resembling pride on his face as he, too, watches Renjun’s routine with a scrutinous but enthralled gaze.

When the music finishes, Renjun just ever so slightly breathless, turns to look at Jaemin and Jeno in turn, flashing them each an almost euphoric smile, and Jisung swears he sees their knees wobble and go weak.

“They’re not very subtle, are they?” Chenle’s voice murmurs into Jisung’s ear. Jisung feels a warm shudder wrack his body, Chenle’s hot breath tickling the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. Chenle lets out a gentle giggle.

“So, Chenle,” Jisung says, swallowing the lump in his throat as he attempts to pretend that didn’t just happen. “Where do you work?” Jisung nods down at the vest that he’s still wearing.

“Ah,” Chenle breathes. “You know the corner market half a block away from school?” Jisung nods. “I’m working there. That reminds me!”

Chenle turns to find Jaemin, who’s standing next to Renjun as he talks to Donghyuck and playing with stray hairs on the top of his head. “Hey, Jaemin!” the latter turns and raises an eyebrow. “Stop drooling over Renjun for a sec and come here.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes but approaches nonetheless. “This better be good, Renjunnie never lets me play with his hair.”

Chenle laughs. “I talked to my boss today and he said that somebody just quit the other day, and that he’s gonna need a new employee. I convinced him not to put up any signs and to let you come in to talk to him.”

Jaemin’s eyes light up gratefully, and he flashes Chenle a bright smile as he grabs the latter’s hands and shakes them excitedly. “Thank you so much, Chenle! I really needed a new job.”

“I know,” Chenle replies, feigning a snooty expression by turning his nose upwards. Jaemin only chuckles and squeezes the tip lightly.

“I owe you one,” Jaemin says, but Chenle just shakes his head. Jaemin offers one final smile, before heading back to where Renjun was, now with Jeno on one side as Jaemin occupies the other.

Chenle turns back to Jisung, and gives him another dumb, heart stopping grin, to which Jisung blinks hard, scrunches up his nose, and smiles back. For the first time in a while, Jisung is happy.

A few hours later of Jeno and Jaemin exchanging dance tips and Donghyuck sticking erasers up mark’s nose as he napped, the group finally went their separate ways for the night, with promises of seeing each other at school the next day.

As the school switched periods for lunch hour, Jisung spots a mop of neon green hair in the crowd (he slightly towered over the masses, making it that much easier to spot) and he realizes now why Mark had said that Jisung may have seen him. With a hair color like that, he would be hard to miss.

With a few gentle pushes and one elbow to the gut, Jisung reaches chenle, giving him a tap on the shoulder to signal his presence.

Chenle’s face lights up when he recognizes Jisung, and he offers him an enthusiastic wave. Only seconds later, the two hear Chenle’s voice being called, and Right enjun (followed by Jeno and Jaemin, of course) breaks through the crowd in the hallway.

“Oh, Jisung, you’re here, too!” Renjun comments with a smile. “Let’s head to lunch together! Mark and Donghyuck said they’ll meet us.”

Chenle nods happily and goes to follow Renjun as he turns to head towards the cafeteria. Chenle only spares a brief glance back at Jisung to make sure he’s following, but that’s all it takes for a large body mass to intercept the boys’ path. Chenle bumps headfirst into another student’s chest (he’s much taller, maybe even taller than Jisung) and the smaller boy practically ricochets off. Chenle is genuinely concerned, and offers a small bow and a casual apology.

The two ready to continue walking, but the student grabs Chenle’s shoulder harshly. “Hey,” he growls. “Don’t you mean, ‘I apologize’. I’m older than you, you know. It’s only polite.”

Chenle’s mouth opens and closes slightly, and he’s unsure of what to say. He begins to speak finally, starting with a “I apo--” but doesn’t get any further than that.

Renjun, who had noticed that chenle wasn’t behind him, shoves his forearm into the bully’s chest, as he places his own smaller body in front of chenle’s protectively. “Hey, can’t you let it go? He’s not native to here so his Korean isn’t perfect.” Renjun, despite how short he is, bless his tiny soul, furrows his brows in frustration as he stares into the student’s face directly, not once breaking eye contact or a sweat despite the looming stature of the latter.

“What are you, his translator?” the bully bites back. “Where are you from?” he demands, looking straight past Renjun and into Chenle’s eyes.

“China,” Chenle replies quietly.

“Well then, let’s let the chink explain for himself, huh?” the student jeers, looking back to Renjun as he says it.

Renjun’s chest begins to heave, as his fists shake at his sides with anger. By now, the surrounding kids have stopped moving, and were standing useless, looking on as bystanders. Renjun starts to take a step forward, but Chenle grabs his hand before he can say anything else.

“Renjun,” Jisung hears Chenle murmur. But then they’re conversing in Chinese and Jisung can’t understand any of it.

Jisung spots Jeno and Jaemin just behind the bully, their shoulders tense, ready to jump in at any time.

“Oh!” the student jaunts, laughing cruelly. “So you’re_ both_ chinese scum! Well I might have known--”

But then his words are cut off by the a loud crack as Renjun’s fist strikes his lower right jaw. The bully stumbles back a step, moving his hinges and rubbing his jawline before he takes a step in and throws a punch back, hitting Renjun square in the face.

Renjun’s head snaps back, and when it comes back up, he pinching the bridge of his nose as blood seeps out of his nostrils.

Jisung watches as Chenle grabs Renjun’s arms protectively, dragging him away from the circle that’s been created by the other students to watch as the fight unfolds. They’re all chittering obnoxiously, but none of them attempt to do anything.

Jisung looks back to Jaemin and Jeno now, and wow they look pissed. They’re shoving their bodies into the bully and dodging his slow hits, as they get a few of their own in. But then Jisung sees Jeno take a well placed thwack on his cheekbone, and Jaemin get clipped on the mouth.

Not much happens after that though, before two male teachers push their way in and worm in between the boys. Nothing really comes of their interference and from what Jisung can tell as he follows Chenle (and Renjun) away from the throng of kids, they’re let off with a warning (fighting isn’t really that uncommon in this school, Jisung notes) and the two go their separate ways, their aggressive glares the last thing each of them see.

Jisung follows Chenle to the boys bathroom, where he guides Renjun to the sink (he has his face pointed towards the ground to keep the blood out of his throat) and as soon as Renjun is safely in front of one, he rushes into the stall to grab wads of toilet paper.

His brows are screwed together and his eyes are dark for the first time since Jisung has met him. “Renjun, why the hell would you do that?” he whines. “I could’ve taken care of it.”

“He was an ass,” Renjun responds, taking the toilet paper and pressing it to his nose, the blood on his hands appearing on even the other side of the tissue. “He’s in one of my classes, and he’s constantly being a dick. I’ve been dying for a chance to get my fists on him.” And even with a bloody nose, he gives Chenle and Jisung a playful wink.

Chenle’s shoulders just sag, and Renjun’s features soften. “I’m okay, Chenle,” he insists. He pulls the tissue away from his face, showing his nose, which is bloody and a little bruised but otherwise okay. “He’s so weak he couldn’t even break it.”

Chenle just sighs as he guides the tissue in Renjun’s hand back to the source of blood.

Nanoseconds later, the door is swinging open and hitting the bathroom wall with a loud thud. In walk Jaemin and Jeno, slightly injured, but more so just angry and upset.

“Renjun!” they cry in unison, rushing to his side. Renjun just lets out a frustrated huff.

“I’m fine!” he mumbles as he attempts to fight off the boys’ wandering hands as they pat his head, his hair, his cheeks.

Minutes later and the bleeding is finally slowing and the second it stops, he throwing out the toilet paper, washing his hands, and then dragging Jaemin and Jeno out the door by their hands. As they leave, Jisung hears Renjun say, “I’m so fucking hungry literally fuck this!”

“Looks like he’s good as new,” Jisung comments. Chenle gives him an empty stare and for a second Jisung thinks he’s overstepped his boundaries and holy shit why did he say that, but then Chenle breaks into a smile, grabbing Jisung by his hand as well and leading them out the door.

“You’re funny, Park Jisung,” Chenle determines. “Tall, handsome, funny, a good dancer...what can’t you do?”

_Flirt_, Jisung thinks pathetically. But instead he just shrugs, and lets Chenle walk them to the cafeteria.

Once they’re there, they end up at a table near the back, across from the trash cans, and the others are already sitting down.

Chenle and Jisung take the empty seats next to each other, and watch as Donghyuck paces back and forth behind the bench. Mark, on the other hand, is gently holding Renjun’s chin and inspecting his face thoroughly, before finally pulling back.

“We should kill him,” Donghyuck growls, still pacing. Without even blinking, Mark just grabs his arm when he passes by and drags him back to his seat. Donghyuck complies, but as soon as he’s sitting, he’s leaning over the table with his face in Renjun’s, glaring at the red stain on his philtrum.

“Hey, Lee Donghyuck,” Renjun scolds. “I said it was fine.” He uses a hand to lightly push the other away from him. “Get your stinky face out of my personal bubble.”

Donghyuck just crosses his arm in protest and glares beneath pointed eyebrows.

Then his expression changes immediately, just as jisung notices the sound of heavy approaching footsteps.

“Hey, punks,” a familiar voice calls out. Jisung turns and finds the student from earlier, a dark bruising on his jaw and a cut on his lip, stomping towards them, followed closely by two male lackeys.

“And what the fuck do _you_ want?” Donghyuck hissed. Under the table, mark nudges his knee in warning.

“Just wanted to have a talk with your little friend here,” he responds, nodding towards Renjun. Jeno and Mark stand abruptly, and the two walk to create a wall in front of Renjun, as they cross their arms firmly.

“Aw, does the little bitch need his_ bodyguards_ to protect him?” the boy mocks, as the two students behind him snicker.

“Why don’t you just fuck off, Baek Kyung,” Jeno growls, glaring at him from beneath his brows.

“You don’t want to start something in the middle of the cafeteria,” Mark countered.

Kyung lets out a feral growl as he stares at through the hole between Mark and Jeno’s heads, where Renjun is looking on with a similar glare. He juts out his chin and points an accusatory finger at the group.

“Watch your back,” he warns with a low voice, before the three turn on their heels and walk away. Mark and Jeno finally break formation, but are startled as Renjun pushes through them, tray in hand. The two scramble to grab the tails of his uniform jacket, but miss narrowly as he rushes to catch up with Kyung.

“Hey, Baek Kyung!” Renjun calls out. As the former turns, Renjun throws his tray full of rice and curry and an open juice box across Kyung’s pants. The cafeteria falls into a stunned hush as they watch the scene unfold.

“_O__ops_,” Renjun says. “My bad.”

Jisung watches as Kyung’s face grows red with anger, and he rears his arm back. Before he can swing, however, Mark is grabbing Renjun by the shoulder and dragging him back to the table.

Kyung attempts to follow, but one of his goons pushes him back. “Not here,” he murmurs into his ear. Kyung yells, the sound echoing throughout the quiet room, as he violently shakes off his buddy’s touch.

“This isn’t over!” he swears. “Fuck, I’ll get you back for this, Huang! Mark my words!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Renjun mocks, before flipping him off. Kyung reaches over to the closest table, taking a random student’s tray and throwing it to the ground in outrage. The three stalk away as Mark finally coaxes Renjun back into his seat.

“Fucking asshole,” Renjun mutters.

“What the fuck,” Jaemin hisses, and he’s never heard him speak like that to Renjun. “Are you fucking stupid? You got a fucking death wish?”

“He deserved it!” Donghyuck defended.

“_E__ven if he did,_” Jeno growled slowly. “You_ want_ him on Renjun’s ass for the whole year? Him and his goons?

Donghyuck and Jeno look at each other in a tense staring contest, before the former finally blinks and breaks eye contact.

“Maybe he’s right,” Mark confesses. “All Renjun’s done is piss him off. Who knows what he might do to you.” His features tighten with concern. Donghyuck pouts.

“Renjun, just stay near us for a bit, mmkay?” Jaemin finally relents. Renjun opens his mouth to protest, but Jeno cuts him off.

“Just for our sakes?” he looks pleadingly at the smaller boy. Renjun lets out a sigh before nodding ever so slightly.

“Fine,” he concedes.

Jisung pokes his chopsticks around at his lunch, and he wonders offhandedly if Renjun will actually do what Jeno and Jaemin say. There’s a lull in conversation after that, where everyone is kinda just playing with their food (save for Renjun who used his as a weapon earlier).

“Guys,” Renjun whines. “I’m _sorry_, okay? I just get so angry when people pick on my friends and act like total dickheads and--”

Jaemin rests a comforting hand on Renjun’s wrist. “I know, Junnie,” he exhales carefully. “We just get so _worried_. Especially…” he trails off, and gives a soft gesture towards Chenle, who’s got his head down as he fiddles with his thumbs.

Renjun follows Jaemin’s gaze, and his knitted eyebrows soften, and his eyes sink.

“Chenle…” he murmurs.

“You’re always getting in trouble because of me,” Chenle whispers painfully. Jisung’s heart lurches, and he has to physically keep himself from taking Chenle’s face into his hands or anything else impulsive and weird.

“It’s not because of you--” Renjun starts.

“It is!” chenle objects, still looking down so as to not make eye contact with anyone as his small body shakes with anger. “Because i’m bad at Korean. Because my parents can’t do anything because they don’t know _any_ Korean. And I know they’re trying but it’s so _hard._ It’s hard for _me_ and then it’s hard for _you_, and then it’s hard for _everyone_.”

“Zhong Chenle!” Renjun scolds gently, taking the younger’s hand into his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I promised I’d take care of you. That’s my decision. And I don’t regret it. You’re_ family_.”

Chenle looks up then, and his glossy eyes slowly morph into loving crescent moons. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows repeatedly and he squeezes Renjun’s hand back.

Jisung looks around at the table, and they’re all looking on with soft, fond gazes, and he feels uncomfortably out of place. He fidgets awkwardly, but then Chenle places his free hand on Jisung’s thigh, and the warmth of his tiny hand somehow fills him with strength.

He smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um ciao anyways so.... my twitter is @waysve feel free to follow and dm and interact with me and ill do the same back! and if u wanna leave some comments that would be nice too 🥺


	3. even in silence, we'll hear each other's voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He was kinda scary,” Jeno mumbles, smiling down at his hands that are fidgeting nonstop in his lap. 
> 
> “Coming from you,” Jisung scoffs. 
> 
> “What’s that meant to mean?” 
> 
> “You were even scarier!” Jisung insists, mumbling out in a exaggeratingly low voice, “‘Get the fuck out of here before we disembowel you’.”
> 
> “I don’t sound anything like that!” Jeno protests.
> 
> “I dunno, Jeno,” Jaemin says. “It sounded pretty spot on to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been....so long....im so sorry...
> 
> i finally picked up this chapter halfway through after months, and i was like, ew i cannot write, but i really like this story and i want it WRITTEN so i just went with it. the end is a bit rushed but i was getting bored 😅
> 
> also i changed from lowercaps to regular auto caps but i had to go back and change everything so if i missed a few things dont kill me bc i dont have a beta...

Jisung falls into a type of routine he’d never imagined himself falling into; lunch with the misfits, as he’s taken to calling them (in his head, of course), and then walking to the studio after school where they’d hang and dance and smoke.

While this happened, Jisung’s dad seemed to be in a good mood as well, seemingly happy that Jisung was preoccupied with actual friends rather than causing trouble for him at home and at school. Sometimes, his dad would even smile at him or ruffle his hair and Jisung could almost convince himself that life was good.

He should’ve known it couldn’t last.

Renjun kept his word in the next few weeks, always staying next to Jaemin or Jeno or both, and he hadn’t caused any (physical) fights recently, and school was just bearable for them all. Baek Kyung, on the off chance that Renjun was found anywhere near him, would glare and bare his teeth in their direction, but other than that, nothing had come of his earlier threats.

Despite the lack of confrontation, the tension when the two found each other’s gaze was still palpable, and it finally came to an apex weeks later.

The weather was finally getting warmer, and the forecast stopped predicting snow and freezing temperatures, and the misfits were excited. They’d told Jisung about a basketball court near the studio that they used often in the warm seasons. It was dirty and used, but other than that, there was nothing wrong with it, and no one really used it besides them.

The first week that the sun appeared and it was warm enough for a simple windbreaker, Chenle relayed to Jisung that they were gonna meet at the studio and then play a few games together after school. Jisung’s never been one for sports, but Chenle’s sparkling eyes (“But i want to watch you play!”) quickly convinced him that he could give it a shot.

So after they walked to the studio together and dropped their belongings off, they walked about a block away to the infamous court.

The fence surrounding it was rusted and the lock had been busted open (by the others or someone else entirely, Jisung didn’t know). The court was outlined by faded chalk lines, and weeds sprouted from cracks in the blacktop. The baskets themselves were missing the nets, but they were still intact and useable.

“Ta da!” Jaemin sings. He catches Jisung’s eye. “Have you ever played before? You’re definitely tall enough.”

Jisung shrugs. “When I was much younger. I don't really know how good I am anymore, but I'm willing to try.”

In his peripheral, he sees Chenle grin widely, and Jisung has to suppress a smile.

“Fuck,” Renjun mutters. The group turns to look at him. “I forgot my phone in my bag. I’m gonna run and get it,” he says. Jeno takes a step forward by reflex. Renjun shakes his head. “No, stay here. I'll only be like 10 minutes.”

Jeno looks like he wants to argue, but Renjun just shoots him an expression somewhere between a glare and puppy dog eyes. “Okay,” Jeno resigns. “But be careful. And be quick.”

“Okay, _mom_,” Renjun teases. “It’s only a five minute walk.” He starts towards the entrance of the fencing. As he takes off in a jog, he calls back, “Just start without me. I'll be right back!”

Jaemin and Jeno sigh in unison, and only tear their gaze away from Renjun’s receding form when Donghyuck clears his throat and claps his hands.

“You heard the man, let’s get started!” Donghyuck announces. “Everyone, come here.”

The six remaining boys walk towards the middle of the court, where Donghyuck is waiting. “We’ll decide teams by rock, paper, scissors, since it’s only fair.” He spares a glance at each person, and when no one objects, he holds his fist out in front of him. “Everybody in.”

Everyone save for Chenle puts their fist out, but they don’t begin. Donghyuck looks at Chenle.

“_Remember earlier_, I told you I wasn't going to play,” Chenle protests.

“Yes, but Renjun isn’t here, so we’d have an uneven amount if you_ didn’t_ play.”

“But _Donghyuck_\--”

“Jisung!” Donghyuck interrupts, rolling his eyes. “You can teach Chenle can’t you?”

Jisung’s eyes go unseeing for a hot second, and he feels the tips of his ears heating up as he directs his attention to Chenle’s widening smile. “If Jisung teaches me, then I’ll play!”

The other boys look at Jisung knowingly, similar smirks adorning their faces. “Fine, fine!” Jisung relents easily.

“Woohoo!” Chenle celebrates, immediately sticking his tiny fist out. Jisung thinks he sees the smaller boy send the others a wink when he thought Jisung wasn’t looking, but he couldn’t be sure.

The groupings turn out to be Jisung, Chenle, and Mark, versus Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Jeno.

“Okay, break!” Donghyuck yells out. The teams head to their respective sides of the court, and they start a warmup round.

After the ball is tossed up, Jisung is able to use his height to his advantage and get possession of the ball. He sends a pass to Mark, as Jisung motions for Chenle to run forward.

Mark passes the ball back to Jisung, who then tosses it to Chenle, who is by his side. gameplay stops then, as they all allow for Chenle to try and shoot the ball at the hoop.

“_Jisung_,” Chenle whines.

Jisung reflexively places his body behind Chenle, placing his hands on each of the smaller boy’s forearms, guiding his arms into an arcing motion. He squeezes a foot between Chenle’s closed stance, opening up his hips and allowing for better ability to bend his knees.

This all comes pretty naturally to Jisung; he used to play basketball when he was a kid, and his mother wasn’t a druggie, and his family was almost normal. So only after Jisung helps guide Chenle to shoot the ball (it bounced off the headboard and straight into the basket) Jisung takes note of everyone’s obnoxious smiles, staring at the two of them on the court.

Jisung feels his face flush, but he almost forgets about the brief embarrassment when Chenle jumps up and down in excitement, and gives Jisung a high five.

Gameplay resumes shortly after, and after a few more baskets from both teams, they break for water.

As they’re sitting on the side of the court, backs against the fence, Jaemin interrupts, his features concerned. “It’s been ten minutes, shouldn’t Renjun be back by now?”

A hush befalls everyone as they remember that Renjun should’ve returned in the time that they were playing.

“Maybe he’s just taking his time?” Mark suggests, but even he doesn’t sound too convinced.

“I'm going to go see what’s taking him so long,” Jaemin announces, setting his water down and heading towards the opening in the gate.

“Jaemin, wait!” Jeno calls after him. “We can all go.”

Jeno gives a pleading look to the others, and they’re all immediately on their feet. Jaemin nods, his eyebrows still screwed together. They start back towards the studio.

When they’re about three minutes away, the reverberating sound of a trash can falling over rings out. The group exchanges glances, and they head towards the sound, ending up at the mouth of a wide alley.

As they peer in, they see a group of four guys going after a boy with a familiar mop of blonde hair, and Jisung swears he can see the veins pop out of Jeno’s neck.

Before Jisung can even blink, everyone is rushing forward in a flurry of limbs and curse words.

“What the fuck?” he hears Mark strain to say. Jisung watches as Jaemin and Jeno rush in headfirst, fists flying as soon as they’re within a foot of the attackers.

Jisung shakes off his initial shock and begins to storm in. First order of business: Chenle.

Chenle, at the sight of Renjun taking a particularly nasty hit to the jaw, had followed suit of the others despite his small stature. He was trying to push one of the attacker’s bodies away from where he was trying to get at Donghyuck, but he easily pushed him off. Chenle stumbled from the force, but quickly regained his balance and charged back in. This time, the same guy shoved him into the dumpster, and Jisung felt his face flush with rage.

He stomped in and grabbed Chenle’s wrist before he could get up and try yet again. Chenle opened his mouth to protest, but with a single (and apparently terrifying enough) glare from Jisung, he shut his mouth and headed to the fringes. Once Jisung made sure he would stay where he was, he turned on his heel and immediately grabbed at the shoulder of the thug that pushed Chenle.

In the split second it took for the guy to turn around and for Jisung to punch him in the face, he vaguely makes note that the kid is quite familiar and was wearing the same uniform, but Jisung is too worked up to notice anything else. The guy’s head snaps to the right after Jisung’s hook, but he doesn’t go down. He shakes off the pain, and sends what probably was meant to be a menacing glare at Jisung.

Jisung doesn’t even flinch. “What the fuck are you staring at, huh?” he spits out as he jabs a finger into the guy’s shoulder. He tries to throw his fist at Jisung’s face, but the latter grabs his wrist midair, and twists it down. The thug makes a noise of pain, but Jisung doesn’t stop. He holds the wrist down in an awkward angle and continues to poke his finger into the guy’s shoulder. Over and over until the guy is stood up against the wall.

“I _said_,” Jisung hissed. “_what the fuck are you staring at_?” Jisung towers over the kid easily, and now he looks properly threatened.

Despite this, he throws another punch at Jisung with his free hand. Jisung doesn’t react quick enough, and his fist makes contact straight onto his mouth. He spits to the side and clenches his teeth before Jisung punches him again, hard, and he finally goes down.

“Stay the fuck down,” Jisung warned. The guy’s limbs twitched, but he stayed on the ground, pupils shaking in fear. “Good choice.”

Jisung turns to look at the chaos still going on in the alley; Jaemin and Jisung are tearing a guy slightly taller than them away from Renjun (who’s still trying to throw punches) while Donghyuck and Mark are taking on two other guys. They all wear the same uniforms, and it’s a blur of greys and navy blues as the two sides continue to fight.

Jisung lets out a harsh growl, and grabs a wooden plank resting against the brick wall before he slams it against the top of a trash can. The sound echoes loudly throughout the narrow alley, and it stops the brawl for a brief second.

“What the _fuck_,” Jisung seethes. “is going on?” he looks at all the faces of the boys in turn, and it’s then that he realizes that among them is Baek Kyung, and his goons from that day in the cafeteria. Jisung makes eye contact with each and every one of his friends, nods his head to the empty space next to him, begging them with his eyes to separate themselves. With a few final glares and growls, they all slink away to join Jisung at the far wall.

The bully that Jisung beat into the ground half a minute ago scrambles up and joins his crew on the opposite wall, and now they’re staring at each other in a tense standoff.

“That little _bitch_,” Kyung spits, pointing an accusatory finger at Renjun. “needs to pay for embarrassing me.”

“You embarrass yourself even _without_ my help,” Renjun snaps back. Baek Kyung bares his teeth and Jisung doesn’t look but he can bet Jaemin and Jeno are either glaring at Renjun or are holding his back from rushing back into a fight.

“Hey _fuckheads_,” Donghyuck shouts. “Give it a rest. You’re outnumbered.”

“He’s right,” Mark asserts. “It’s seven against four, and I don’t think you wanna find out how bad we’ll fuck you the fuck up.”

Jisung spares a glance at the eldest, because he’s never heard such vulgarities from him before, and Jisung can’t help but swell with respect for him. He's pretty docile until it comes to his friends, and Jisung admires it.

“Just get the fuck out of here before we change our minds,” Jeno hisses, and even Jisung is slightly scared of the animalistic and aggressive tone that he speaks in. The others must feel threatened as well, because the three goons find it in themselves to drag Baek Kyung away. They inch along the wall until they reach the mouth of the alley, and Baek Kyung gives one final snarl and they make a run for it just as he screams out “This isn’t fucking over!”

Jisung and the others watch until they can no longer see the forms of the four bullies, and then immediately, they turn to one another to check for injuries. Chenle runs to Jisung first (he tries not to blush with happiness that he chose him over Renjun) as the others flock to Renjun.

“Park Jisung,” Chenle scolds as he wipes his thumb at Jisung’s new split lip. “You’re crazy. And hot. Crazy hot. And kinda scary. But in a cute way.”

Jisung’s eyes widen comically, and Chenle chuckles slyly. Before they can continue, they’re distracted by Jeno’s yell that rings through the alley.

“I’m going to fucking kill them!” Jeno screams. His fists are clenched at his sides and he kicks at the nearest pile of cardboard in anger.

“Calm the fuck down, Jeno!” Renjun chides. “I'm literally fine!”

“Well, no, you’re not fucking fine!” Jaemin counters. “You’ve got a black eye and who knows what else! What the hell did those sons of bitches do to you? I’m with Jeno on this one; it was four against one and you’re so _small_ and _cute_ I’m going to fucking _kill_ them—”

“Alright, everybody needs to take a deep breath,” Mark interrupts. Everyone looks at him with varying expressions of anger and frustration. “Okay, then. First thing’s first, let’s head to the studio so we can get the first aid kit and patch up whatever needs patching up, okay? Sounds good?”

Mark’s glare is directed unabashedly at Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, demanding one answer and one answer only. He only ceases after the three give reluctant nods, and Mark points a hard finger to the entrance of the alley as if to say 'Walk. _Now_.'

With them three leading the way, the others are quick to follow. In a matter of minutes they’re back in the studio, and Mark leaves to get a first aid kit. When he comes back with the white box, he sits in the middle of the room, criss-cross applesauce, and looks up expectantly. The others get the memo and join him in the center.

“Okay, Renjun, come here,” Mark demands. Renjun gives a subtle pout as he prepares to argue. He takes a side glance at the rest of them before he chooses his target.

“Why don’t we help Jisung first, he’s the youngest,” Renjun suggests.

The others turn to look at him, and Jisung just stares. “I'm okay, though?” he says, and then lets out a soft ‘_oh_’ when Renjun glares at him.

‘_Sorry_’ he mouths at him.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck interrupts, staring the other straight in the eyes. “You’re going to _sit_, and you’re going to _stay_, and we’re going to clean you up. Got it?” Renjun opens his mouth to speak but Donghyuck cuts him off immediately. “_Good_.”

Renjun definitely exaggerates his eye roll, but obeys anyway as Mark begins to clean his new cuts with an antiseptic.

“But wow, Jisung,” Chenle says to break the silence. “You were really cool.”

Jisung lightly blushes as Chenle oogles him. “Not really…” he trails off.

“I cannot deny,” Donghyuck chimes in, finally looking away from Renjun to look at the younger two. “You were pretty badass, Jisung.”

“He’s so_ tall_,” Chenle adds.

“That he is,” Mark chuckles, taking a split second to look away from Renjun to give Jisung a fatherly smile which only makes Jisung blush harder.

“He was kinda scary,” Jeno mumbles, smiling down at his hands that are fidgeting nonstop in his lap.

“Coming from you,” Jisung scoffs.

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“You were even scarier!” Jisung insists, mumbling out in a exaggeratingly low voice, “‘Get the fuck out of here before we disembowel you’.”

“I don’t sound anything like that!” Jeno protests.

“I dunno, Jeno,” Jaemin says. “It sounded pretty spot on to me.”

The laughter increases as Jeno makes a face towards the other boy, until it dies down comfortably on its own.

Mark continues to tend to Renjun’s wounds as Chenle scoots closer to Jisung, nudging him with his elbow and shooting him a blindingly proud smile. “That’s the first time you’ve told a joke,” he whispers happily, and Jisung blinks as it sets in. The joke rolled off his tongue naturally, and he can’t remember the last time that it’s happened. He used to joke around with his mother before she found drugs, and the realization is almost enough to bring a tear to Jisung’s eye.

Instead, he settles for giving Chenle a smile as he brings his hand to ruffle the smaller boy’s hair. Chenle leans into the touch, and Jisung’s stomach explodes into butterflies.

***

Chaos erupts the next day after school. Jisung meets the guys outside the school, and it’s then that he notices that Jeno is missing. And if he’s noticing it, it’s only common sense that Renjun and Jaemin are already thinking about the worst case scenario.

“He’s not picking up his_ fucking_ phone!” Renjun growls in frustration as Jisung walks into earshot.

“Is there any chance that it’s nothing as bad as what’s going through your heads right now?” Mark asks, ever the logical one. Jisung comes to a halt next to Chenle, who spares him a threadbare smile, his concern obvious as he bounces from heel to heel.

Jaemin stops chewing his lip to shreds to answer. “Maybe like a 5% chance? Jeno _always_ texts if something comes up.”

“And if he--” Renjun begins, but is cut off by the abrupt ringing of his cellphone. In the time it takes Jisung to blink, he has his phone out and on speaker phone. They all crowd in a circle around the device. “Jeno!” Renjun yells. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you been answering?”

There’s a beat of silence, and Jisung looks down to confirm on the phone screen that it was indeed Jeno who called.

“It’s my aunt,” comes Jeno’s response, quiet and strained.

The anger dissipates from Renjun’s brow immediately, his breath getting visibly caught in his throat.

“She’s missing,” Jeno continues.

“She goes missing often, does she not?” Donghyuck posits.

“Yeah, but never this long. She hasn’t been home in four days. She usually comes a day or two after she goes AWOL begging for money or something to sell, but…” he trails off in a huff. “Like, it’s not like she’s a good person or that I _like_ the hag, but I don’t want her dead on the streets or something like that.”

“Where are you?” Mark says firmly. “We’re coming to you, and then we’re going to find your aunt. Together.”

“You--I--I’m at home right now. I thought maybe she’d stumble home, but--”

“Okay, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t move,” Renjun instructs, hanging up before Jeno can say anything else.

True to Renjun’s word, they’re there in fourteen and half minutes, Jaemin rushing to the door and slamming it open, foregoing any polite knocking.

Immediately Jaemin is gathering Jeno into his arms. Though Jeno isn’t showing any obvious signs of distress, Jisung can see the strain of muscles in Jeno’s brows, his pursed lips, the slight pale pallor of his face.

“Where have you already looked?” It’s a demand for answers, but Mark’s voice is gentle when he speaks.

Jeno tells him all he’s done to look, and for the next hour and forty-five minutes, the seven of them scour the immediate vicinity, and places Jeno thinks his aunt may have gone.

Just before the two hour mark, it’s Renjun who spots her as he passes by a dimly lit alley way (fucking alleys today), passed out with an empty whiskey bottle still in hand, her dress straps falling down and her feet bare with her red pumps sat behind her.

By then, they’d divided into teams to search more ground, and Renjun was with Jisung, who obeyed Renjun when he barked out to call the others. In minutes, everyone had found the alley, with Jeno the last to reach it.

Once he appears, he’s slinking to his knees next to his aunt, and shaking her shoulders lightly, beckoning her to consciousness. “Aunt Seonghee,” he says, his voice grim and firm. No matter what they do, she doesn’t budge, so Jeno simply shoulders her onto his back and they sulk home in silence.

When they reach the door, Jeno tells them that he can handle it from here, but Jaemin and Renjun practically force themselves through the door, and it looks like Jeno is too exhausted to protest.

Jeno gives in with a sigh, and tells the others that they’re free to come inside and rest, to which they all agree to (Jisung thinks they all had to same thing in mind: to comfort Jeno in any way they could), save for Donghyuck, who says that he has a surprise and to wait for him.

As he sprints off, the remaining five boys follow Jeno inside like sheep being herded back to the farm, and they make themselves at home on the couch, the chairs, the rug.

Within ten minutes, Donghyuck has returned, his backpack noticeably heavier than before (he wasn’t much of a studier, so his bag usually had a single notebook and folder, which barely showed through the fabric.

“A little something to take the edge off,” is al Donghyuck says as he swings his bag off and pulls out a bottle of vodka, three-quarters of the way full.

“And where the hell did you get that?” Mark demands.

“Stole it,” Donghyuck responds sweetly. Mark simply shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue.

Donghyuck skips to the living room where they all sat, and squeezes himself next to Mark in a single chair, snuggling into his side. “Where’s Jeno?” he asks as Mark pries his arms away from his midsection.

“Putting his aunt in her bed,” Jaemin responds as he emerges from the kitchen with a glass of juice.

“So, like,” Jisung starts awkwardly. “What’s up with Jeno’s aunt? Is that something I’m allowed to ask? Or...”

The others look unsure and skittish, but before they can reject him, Jeno’s voice filters through the room.

“You helped us search for hours on end despite only knowing us for more than a few weeks, so I’d say you deserve to know,” he says as he descends the staircase.

Jisung’s eyes follow him as he joins Jaemin on the floor, and he gives Jisung as big a smile as he can. “But it might be better to be a little..._not sober_ before I get into that hole.”

Donghyuck responds with a loud cheer, and he makes quick work of unscrewing the cap, taking a swig, and then passing it along.

As everyone drinks, they make minute faces of disgust, but when the bottle reaches Jisung, he hesitates.

“What’s up?” Chenle asks him once he notices his reluctance.

“You’ve never had vodka before, have you?” Renjun deduces with a devilish grin. Jisung debates lying, making him look cool in front of the others, but decides against it when he catches a whiff of the liquid. It smells like pure rubbing alcohol.

He gives a nod as his face twists at the sour stench. The others break into laughter, and Jisung expects the taunting and teasing to follow, and can’t say he’s surprised when it doesn’t come.

“It’s okay, Jisungie!” Donghyuck says encouragingly. “Try it if you want, but don’t be pressured to.” He waits a beat. “Well, there’s a little pressure. But only because I want you to have fun!”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Here,” he says, reaching to the coffee table to pick up Jaemin’s glass of juice and offer it to Jisung. “Take a shot from the bottle, and then chase it with this. It’ll make it a little better.”

Jisung accepts the glass with his free hand, and takes a deep breath before doing as he’s told. Once the vodka reaches his tongue though, Jisung’s eyes widen and he makes haste to swallow the vile substance and gulp the juice immediately after. The others laugh at his response, but never in a mean way, and he finds himself giggling, too, the heat of the alcohol immediately falling through his throat and settling in his stomach.

When it’s clear he’d regained his composure, the living room erupted into cheers.

“Good job, Sungie!” Jaemin cooed.

Chenle shoots him a smile as he takes the bottle from his hands and takes a swig of his own, his face morphing into one of distaste as well, and Jisung laughs.

As Chenle hands the bottle away and shifts on the couch, their pinkies brush against each other, and Jisung feels his ears flush.

They pass around the bottle until they’re all properly tipsy, and after Jeno takes another swig, he clears his throat and begins to talk. “So, Jisung,” he begins. “My aunt, as you saw, is a hot fucking mess.” He laughs spitefully. “My parents died in a car accident when I was seven, and after that I got tossed around among relatives.”

“I’m sorry,” Jisung says reflexively. Jeno offers him a genuine smile and nods his acknowledgement.

“‘S okay. But my relatives are all assholes, and none of them really wanted me, so I ended up with my aunt; my mom’s sister. She actually used to be kinda cool, but after my mom died, she spiraled into what she is now. A useless alcoholic. And a druggie. Basically anything that makes her not sober is her forté. And I don’t necessarily like her, but I also don’t really want her dead, mostly because I’m not of age and who knows where I’d end up if the bitch up and died.”

Jisung thinks that it’s not the only reason, but he doesn’t say anything and lets Jeno finish his story.

“So thank you, Jisung. And everyone,” he adds. “for helping find her.”

“You know you don’t have to thank us,” Jaemin says, laying a supportive hand on Jeno’s knee.

“I know, but I want to.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few seconds, before Donghyuck fills the void with chatter, and the bottle continues to go around. Jisung lays back as Renjun starts to play music, the sound filtering through his shitty phone speaker and watches the others laugh and smile, their cheeks all rosy from the vodka.

As they become more rowdy, with Mark and Donghyuck chasing each other through the living room, and Jaemin and Renjun fighting for a spot on Jeno’s lap, Jisung notices Chenle’s hand come up to his face, his pointer finger and thumb on each hand creating a rectangle for him to align with his left eye as he shuts his right.

“Taking a picture, Chenle?” Jisung slurs, his brain muddled from the alcohol, and his flirting anxiety momentarily disabled.

“Mm,” Chenle hums. “I don’t have a camera, but you know those times you just want to capture in a picture or something? If I can’t do it digitally, I at least want to keep it in my mind.” He makes eye contact with Jisung, his irises sparkling in the yellow light and his cheeks dusted pink. “You know what I mean? Just wanna remember.”

Jisung tears his gaze away to look at the others enjoying themselves in each other’s company, and he can’t help but break into a smile as a surge of happiness caught in his throat.

He looks back to Chenle and, despite being so much more lanky than the other, latches onto his body like a koala, and lets out a chirp of joy when Chenle’s arms snake around his torso in a tight hug. “I think I do,” he finally says, relishing in the feel of Chenle’s head slotting on top of Jisung’s like a human version of jenga or tetris.

“By the way, Jisung,” Chenle murmurs in his ear.

“Mm?” Jisung mumbles, letting his eyes close shut to rest.

“I’m actually really good at basketball. I wanted Hyuck to tell you to teach me.”

“You’re a devil, Zhong Chenle,” Jisung whispers back with a chuckle. “I probably would have figured it out, eventually.”

“Sure you would have,” Chenle responds, his tiny hands petting his hair softly.

“Bet you were counting on that, too.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“I’ll get you back for that, Zhong.”

“I’d like to see you try, Park.”

Jisung sinks into Chenle’s embrace deeper, and lets his scent overtake him as he nods off to the sounds of laughter and cursing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u leave a comment ill love u 4ever, also u can find me on twitter @waysve and can dm me anytime, though im a bit ia over there  
i do plan on finishing this story, i just dunno when, and im so adhd and flighty about this writing shit so u best know ive got several other stories in the works that might come out before this is done, but this WILL get done
> 
> much love <33


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